


Heartbreak Curses and Love Potions to Cure Them

by Luna_Lee



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Child Abuse, F/M, GaaLee Fest 2019, M/M, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 04:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20334160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_Lee/pseuds/Luna_Lee
Summary: Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration draws clear lines in the sands of magic: there are some things in this world that no witch or wizard can do, no matter how powerful. Love, though not a substance to transfigure or transmute, is one such thing that magic simply cannot create. However, magic can tamper with love; magic can destroy love; magic can taint love; and sometimes, magic can kill love.In his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, Rock Lee discovers that some love spells are more sinister and more deadly than even the most powerful draught of Amortentia.





	Heartbreak Curses and Love Potions to Cure Them

**Author's Note:**

> And.... I'm a dumbass because I decided last night at like one in the morning that it would be a great idea to bust out a Hogwarts AU for today's prompt for the [GaaLee Fest](https://puregaalee.tumblr.com/post/184654222850/gaalee-festival-2019every-way-i-could-love-you). As if I wasn't already planning on a million other pieces for the event. Anyways, this was written today over the course of like six hours while sitting in cafes, so currently it's not much. It's going to be between three and five chapters--I'm gonna highball it cause I know how I am. Either way, I hope everyone enjoys! 
> 
> Huge fucking shout out to the amazing and wonderful [tendertorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tendertorn) who beta'd for me last minute on this piece. You continue to be a shining gem of a human being <3
> 
> And just a note: general trigger warning for child abuse because Rasa (Gaara's asshole of a father) is still alive and being, well, an abusive father. Any other warnings will be added, along with any other necessary tags, as the story unfolds because I'm honestly just as clueless as y'all as to what's gonna happen! <s>that's an exaggeration, i do have some idea it's just still kind of ruminating</s>

“I'm just saying it's obvious,” Tenten mutters, flicking her wand a bit viciously. “He's still got a grudge against you.” 

Lee frowns, watching as Tenten's notebook catches fire. “Did you mean to do that?” 

“No.” She bares her teeth, slashing her wand and muttering _“Aguamenti._ Look, I'm just saying, it's not worth it.” 

Lee stares resolutely at the essay in front of him—all three meticulously written sentences casting judgment upon him for daring to think he could ever make it through his seventh year with straight 'O's. He's been stuck on his potions essay for the last two hours, camped out in the library with Tenten—a distant cousin on his dead mother's side of the family—who's patiently tried to get him to focus on anything besides a certain sixth year Gryffindor. 

She has thus far failed to discourage him from his determination to befriend said Gryffindor, but she certainly hasn't failed to crush his spirits. 

“I just think he and I got off on the wrong foot.” Lee shrugs, picking his quill up and letting it hover over his inkwell. The dark green ink—not standard by any means—drips from the sharp tip of his quill. 

“I don't get why you're so hung up on it. You barely know him.” Tenten turns her attention back to her book, no doubt giving up on Lee as a lost cause.

“Tenten, do you remember the qualities of Amortentia?” 

“What? What does that have to do with—oh, you mean for potions?” She rolls her eyes, closing her book—_The Magical Properties of Metal and How to Wand-Weld_—before pulling Lee's barely-started essay towards herself. “Why don't you ask Neji? You know he's better at this stuff than I am.” 

Lee's face turns red, irritated at the mere mention of it. If he asks Neji he'll never hear the end of it and, best friend or not, he has no interest in turning to him for help. Not this year, not this time. “Never mind,” he says, snatching his essay back. 

“No need to get testy,” Tenten says, holding up her hands. “Speaking of Neji, I actually promised I'd meet him at the lake before dinner. Do you mind?” 

Lee shrugs, pouting and petulant. 

He can almost hear Tenten roll her eyes as she gathers her things. “Listen, if you need help go ask Professor Terumi. I know she's a bit intense, but she's not _that_ bad.” 

'Not that bad' is being overly generous in Lee's opinion, but he doesn't say this as Tenten pats his head and disappears to go meet Neji for what Lee knows is a date, even if neither of them will admit it. They've been dancing around the subject since fifth year and, if Lee's not mistaken, the only reason they haven't made it official yet is because of him. 

Lees pushes the thought aside. There's no use in worrying or feeling guilty—after all, he's tried to tell them both that he not only supports their love, but wholeheartedly encourages it. In fact, the thought makes him emotional because they both mean the world to him—all rivalry with Neji aside—and he wants to see them both happy. 

Hopefully this will be the year they stop treating Lee as though he's made of glass and finally make it official. 

He turns his attention back to his essay fully, trying to force understanding upon himself to no avail. Becoming an Auror has always been a bit of a pipe dream, but now more than ever it feels as though it's slipping through his fingers. 

An hour later, he gives up, rolls up his roll of parchment, and makes his way down to the Great Hall for dinner. 

________________________________

The scar on Gaara's face—a pure white streak against the warm Terra-cotta of his cheek—catches Lee's eye as they pass each other in the hall. Potions is the only time Lee gets to see Gaara consistently, which is why he's always much earlier to Potions than he needs to be. Gaara is almost always the last to leave the sixth year Potions class and Lee is always the first to arrive to the seventh year class, giving him the perfect chance to fail at working up the nerve to talk to Gaara. 

He doesn't know why it's so difficult—sure Gaara's a bit on the quiet side, but Lee's seen him with his friends and family; he's seen Gaara smile, subtle and warm; he's seen Gaara's kindness when he's helped younger students with course work in the library or when he's come between fights in the halls. 

There's no reason Lee should be so anxious, but every time he meets Gaara's gaze, the words fail to come. 

Like clockwork, Gaara's eyes catch Lee's and he feels pinned like a bug beneath glass. He's a specimen to dissect, he's a complex algorithm to solve, he's the riddle a sphinx has just spoken—and Gaara can see through him, right to his core. 

His heart beats, like a snitch's wings, his face flushes, and all hopes of mastering the art of speech are lost. He breaks eye contact, looking to the door as it opens and Professor Terumi steps into the hall. 

“My most punctual student!” 

Lee hastens past Gaara, walking directly into the class and a haze of steam that smells earthy and sweet and lulls the chaos in his heart. 

He flops into a seat at the front of the class, taking in a deep breath and letting it out on a sigh. 

Behind him, the rest of the small class begins to file in. There are only seven students in the NEWT Potions class and Lee is only close with Neji, which makes it all the more difficult to ask for help. 

“How did everyone's essays turn out?” Professor Terumi asks once almost everyone is seated. The door opens belatedly, slamming against the wall right as the bell rings. “You're lucky this time, Kurotsuchi! But next time it's detention!” 

“Sorry, Professor,” Kurotsuchi, a Slytherin Prefect says, entirely unapologetic. 

Terumi makes a sweeping gesture, returning everyone's attention back to the cauldron at the front of the class. “As I was saying: By now, you should have all finished your essays on Amortentia. As I stated at the beginning of term, the NEWT level Potions course work is slightly different. While we will be going over a variety of complex potions over the next few months, by December, you should have picked a potion as your focus for a research essay which will be your main focus in the second term. So far, we've discussed two potions: Veritaserum and Amortentia, two of the most complex potions. Our last practical lesson, we examined Veritaserum.

“Continuing with the practical lessons, we are now going to look at Amortentia. Before we begin, did anyone have any questions or concerns regarding their essays?” 

No one in the class moves to raise their hand, but Terumi's gaze fixes to each student individually, nearly as piercing as Gaara's. Lee fidgets when she lands on him. One elegant eyebrow rises, a knowing look in her eyes. 

“Mr. Hyuuga, would you care to share a portion of your essay with us?” Terumi asks, her gaze lingering on Lee for a moment too long before sliding to Neji at Lee's side. 

Neji stands, letting his scroll unfurl to reveal five feet of parchment packed with his tiny cursive. He clears his throat. “'Though Amortentia holds itself above all other love potions as the pinnacle love potion, it does not manufacture true, genuine love, but obsession. Over the centuries, many have tried and failed to uncover the root of a true love potion, but that magic is still beyond us, and perhaps may not exist at all. 

“However, unlike all other love potions in existence, Amortentia is unique in that unconsumed Amortentia does reveal the true heart of any individual close enough to smell the potion's contents. While the mystery of how Amortentia and all other love potions fail to produce true love continues to confound potions masters, so too does the elusive understanding of how Amortentia's scent changes from individual to individual. The contradiction of Amortentia is a difficult one to parse, yet the allure of the potion overpowers the difficulty, making it one of the most studied potions in the magical community.'” 

Neji sits down as a smattering of applause echoes around the dungeon. 

“Very nice, Mr. Hyuuga. Ten points to Ravenclaw. Would anyone else like to share a portion of their essay?” Her gaze glides around the room, landing once again on Lee. He wonders if she has it out for him. “What about you?” 

Lee's face is beet red as he stands, unrolling his own essay with trembling fingers. He feels exposed, beat down. He feels as though everyone in the room is calling him stupid, calling him a failure. 

He coughs, stalling for time as his eyes scan the parchment for something insightful, something that might surprise even Terumi. “'Through careful study, Amortentia can be mastered, but love cannot be. Love is its own master, and all who set out to create Amortentia with intent to use it have failed to understand this.' Um...” Lee pauses, his heart in his throat, as he works up the nerve to continue. “'A difficult potion with a more complex goal, Amortentia proves a dangerous tool, misused and abused throughout its hist—history. What Amortentia and those who seek to use it fail to grasp is the simple question many fail to grasp: what is love? 

“'Magical Theory allows us to study the root of magic and understand the laws that govern it, and one such law—Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration—expresses a limit to things that can be conjured, manifested, or otherwise produced through magic. Potions, while separate from the study of Transfiguration, must also be governed by the laws of magic, thus Gamp's Law provides an answer to the question of artificial love: magic cannot and will not create it.'” 

Lee swallows, looking up to find Terumi's eyes wide. Around him, the class is silent and Neji is watching him, mouth agape. 

“Um...” 

“One-hundred points to Hufflepuff,” Terumi says, almost breathless. “That was impressive work, Mr. Lee. If you don't mind staying after class, I'd like to discuss your essay further.” 

The room buzzes, and blood rushes in Lee's ears as he sits down, grinning for all he's worth. He's never been praised so highly, nor has he ever earned so many points all at once for his House. Neji is still gaping at him, his pale cheeks tinged pink, a sure sign of his jealousy. 

“Now then, are there any other questions? Comments? Would anyone else like to follow up with an excerpt from their own essay? Very well.” Terumi waves her wand, vanishing desks with a flourish. “Everyone please gather around the cauldron and be prepared to take meticulous notes. You will be tested on this during midterms, and more importantly, an improperly made love potion is often the most dangerous.” 

________________________________

The rest of the week, Lee feels as though he's walking on clouds. 

Terumi had read his entire essay, made several copies, shared it with the other professors, and even asked him to submit his work to the Department of Mysteries. He'd written home to his fathers immediately, disappointed that he couldn't call home. Maybe one day someone would figure out a way to adapt muggle telephones using magic, but until then he would have to do it the old fashioned way. 

Unsurprisingly, his father, Maito Gai, had sent him a Howler instead of a simple letter to congratulate him on his success so that the entire school could hear it over breakfast three days later. Embarrassed, but pleased, Lee's week had only continued to improve and the following week, as he's standing outside his Potions class, he feels brave enough to finally say something to Gaara. 

“H-hello.” 

Gaara stops abruptly, surprise in the minute widening of his eyes. “Hi.” 

“Um.” Lee hadn't actually planned this far ahead. Does he just come out and apologize for the accident last year? Does he ask Gaara if he's still mad at him for the scar on his cheek? Does he try to act casual, as if they've always been friends? 

“I read your essay.” 

The sudden confession has Lee's face burning. “Y-you did?” 

“Professor Terumi shared it with us.” He pulls from his bag one of the many copies of his essay Terumi had made. It's riddled with notes in an unfamiliar scrawl—lines are circled, arrows go off into the margins with notes, and there are several paragraphs framed by dancing hearts. 

Lee boggles. “Did you... take notes?” 

“Yes.” Gaara shoves the essay back into his bag, looking away from Lee. “I liked it.” 

“Thank you. I liked it too—I mean, I am so glad you liked it!” Lee's face burns so fiercely he worries he might be coming down with a fever. Perhaps he ought to visit Shizune in the infirmary. 

“Would you have time to discuss it?” Gaara's eyes on him makes the corridor feel tight, claustrophobic even. He swallows back his nerves, nodding. “After dinner tonight?” 

“Okay,” Lee squeaks, and he wants to die from the mortification of it all. 

Gaara seems satisfied by this answer, brushing past Lee without so much as a goodbye. Lee is so stunned, he almost forgets that he's supposed to be going to class. 

________________________________

“What does yours smell like?” Gaara asks without preamble, let alone consideration if Lee wants to share something so private. 

“Um, well, it—it smells like curry—my dad makes the best curry.” 

Gaara looks almost disappointed by this, but he nods. “I did some reading and it seems common for it to smell like a person's favorite dish.” 

“That makes sense. Food is comforting.” 

Gaara's eyes narrow thoughtfully and he writes something down on his copy of Lee's essay. “Comfort is important to love.” 

“Er. Yes? I mean, I imagine it must be.” 

“What else does yours smell like?” 

“Like my dad's dojo.” 

“Your dad runs a dojo?” 

“Yes. My other dad is a foster for shelter dogs.” 

“You have _two_ dads?” 

Lee glares. “Yes, is there something wrong with that?” 

“No,” Gaara says quickly, looking up at Lee. “I only have the one and he's a prat. I just meant... it must be nice having two dads.” 

Lee shrugs. “I wish I knew my mom, though. She died when I was a baby. That is why my dad—the one who runs the dojo—moved back here. Being in China made him miss her too much.” 

“My mom died giving birth to me.” Gaara's expression changes, something dark rippling across his face. He raises a hand to his forehead where a stark birthmark in the shape of a heart adorns his forehead. Lee has always found this particular detail of Gaara's face captivating. The rest of the school, however, has churned out countless rumors over the birthmark. From the mundane—just a simple birthmark—to the ridiculous—he tried to give himself a magical tattoo—to the outright wild—an evil wizard cursed him—the birthmark on Gaara's forehead has known countless origins in the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

“What is wrong?” Lee asks, watching Gaara rub his forehead. 

He quickly pulls his hand away from the splotchy heart, unwilling to meet Lee's gaze. “It's nothing. Just—my father said she cursed me when she died. That's what this is.” 

“That is terrible! Are you sure it is true?” 

“I have no reason to believe it's not. I've been trying to figure out a way to break the curse—if there is one.” 

“Is that why you wanted to ask me about my essay even though you do not like me?” 

Gaara freezes, looking up at Lee with wide eyes. “What makes you think I don't like you?” 

Lee flushes. “Oh, um. Well, last year... you know with the—” He gestures to the scar on Gaara's cheek, shame coiling in his stomach. “I just figured—”

Gaara touches the scar, frowning thoughtfully. The gentle downward curve of his mouth catches Lee's eye and he wonders at the third scent of his potion—the scent he's terrified to share with anyone, but especially Gaara. 

At some point, his determination to make amends with Gaara had turned into infatuation—he'd watched Gaara so many times now that he saw him differently. He knew him only through the small actions he'd witnessed during meals, in the corridors of the school, in their passing between Potions class—but somehow he'd grown attached, grown to care for him, grown some soft and sweet sense of longing for his company and his smile. 

“It was an accident.” Gaara's words are riddled with confusion, as though he's not quite sure of the truth. “It's part of the curse.” 

“The curse—you mean—you think the mark on your forehead caused that?” 

“Did you mean to hit me with that spell?” 

“No!” A harassed hushing from somewhere in the library informs him that Yakushi, the librarian, will be bearing down on him any second if he's not careful to control his volume. He quickly leans forward, dropping his voice. “Of course I did not mean to! I was just frustrated with this spell we had learned in Defense. I wanted so badly to get it right and then my wand just--” Lee gestures, slightly wildly, demonstrating the incident as if Gaara hadn't been on the receiving end of Lee's errant magic. “I really did not mean it.” 

Gaara is watching Lee closely, the soft green of his eyes saturated like pools of fresh paint, filled with some unnameable curiosity. “I thought it was because you hated me.” 

“But you said—”

“That's the curse: to be hated.” 

Lee frowns. “That—that does not make any sense. You are so kind to everyone. I do not think anyone hates you.” 

Gaara looks away. “That's what my father told me, and so far it's proven true.” 

“How? Who hates you?” 

“No one talks to me.” 

“Uzumaki talks to you!” 

“He's the only one besides my siblings, and they've both graduated.” 

“Well, I am talking to you.” 

“Because I asked you to.” 

“No, because I want to!” Lee feels heated, righteously angry in a way he's only ever felt on a handful of occasions. “I like you. I think you are kind and—and interesting! You always try to help others, even when you do not have to.” 

Gaara's staring at Lee, his mouth parted in a small 'oh' of surprise. “We never talk though.” 

“Because I was too nervous! I thought you hated me!” 

“You two!” The librarian materializes from around a shelf, pointing an accusatory finger at them. “Out!” 

Standing outside the library, Lee cannot help but feel indignant. “Seems a bit hypocritical to kick us out for being too loud when he was shouting.” 

Gaara's mouth twitches up into the small smile Lee has only ever seen from afar. “It's getting late anyways. We should get back to our common rooms.” 

Lee's shoulders slump, disappointment settling over his shoulders. “I suppose you are right.” 

A silent moment stretches between them, broken up by the gentle patter of their footfalls across the cool stone floors. Lee thinks back to his essay, to Gaara's birthmark, to the third smell of Amortentia, to Gaara's smile... 

“What does your Amortentia smell like?” he asks suddenly. 

Gaara is so quiet, Lee worries he's asked too personal a question—surprising given the nature of their conversation in the library. 

“I am sorry if that was too pers—”

“Nothing.” Gaara finally says. “It smells like nothing.” 

________________________________

Lee cannot stop thinking about the smell—or lack thereof—of Gaara's Amortentia. It bothers him more than anything has ever bothered him. It's worse than losing to Neji at Quidditch, it is worse than the fear of being a Squib, it is worse than getting a 'T' in his favorite subject. It haunts him like a ghost in a muggle story, consumes him like darkness consumes a Dementor. 

But Lee is not a curse-breaker. He is not a magical theorist. He is not an Unspeakable with unnameable knowledge. And he feels helpless. 

Lee hates being helpless. And he hates to see Gaara hurting. Silly crush though it may be, he does care about Gaara. Perhaps it isn't real love—he doesn't know Gaara well yet, after all—but there is real care there and he does want so badly to be Gaara's friend. 

Surprisingly, Gaara seems to want to be his friend too. 

“Good morning, Gaara!” Lee greets, arriving at the Great Hall for breakfast at the exact same time as Gaara. 

“You're late.” 

Lee frowns. “I... was not aware I was supposed to be here at a specific time?” 

“You're usually here early.” 

Lee blushes, his stomach twisting as though Gaara's just cast a jinx on it. “I could not sleep last night, so I overslept a bit.” 

“Oh.” Gaara pauses, gaze shifting from Lee to the floor, then up again. “I thought—nevermind. Did you want to eat breakfast together?” 

The question—delivered without inflection or doubt that Lee will say 'yes'—makes the knots in Lee's stomach worsen. He feels sick with glee as he beams at Gaara. “I would love to! Do you want to sit at your House table or mine?” 

Gaara glances into the hall, scanning the crowd of students. “Yours is fine.” 

They enter the Great Hall together, Gaara trailing behind Lee like a shadow. Tenten, sitting near the head of the Slytherin table with Neji and her gaggle of Slytherin girls, spots Lee and her mouth falls open. 

At his own table, Hinata—who he usually sits next to—squeaks when she sees who's in Lee's company, and quickly scoots farther down to make more room. On her other side, Chouji's mouth hangs open, a spoonful of oatmeal hanging in midair before him. 

“Good morning, everyone! Do you know Gaara?” 

“Y-yes,” Hinata says, voice trembling. “Go-good morning.” 

“Hyuuga,” Gaara greets. “Akimichi.” 

Lee stares between Gaara and his fellow Hufflepuffs awkwardly. “Well! Shall we, Gaara?” Lee plops heavily into the seat, patting the spot next to him for Gaara. 

Gaara sits, graceful and poised and maybe a bit stif. 

Lee's end of the table falls silent, everyone staring at him and Gaara as they begin to make their plates for breakfast. Lee piles his plate high with eggs and bacon and sausage, while beside him Gaara does much them same, adding more and more eggs, more and more bacon, a pancake, some sausage—

“Are you going to eat the whole table?” Chouji blurts, gaping at Gaara's plate. 

Gaara stops, his fork hovering over yet another sausage. “I eat a lot.” 

“A healthy appetite is the mark of a high metabolism!” Lee exclaims, hoping to deflect any unwanted attention away from Gaara. “And breakfast is the most important meal of the day! If you do not start your day off right, then you are sure to struggle in classes!” 

Gaara stares at Lee flatly, joined by Chouji and Hinata and several others. 

“Oh, here we go again,” someone says several seats down. “Is the Power of Youth going to get us through NEWTs too, Lee?” Several people giggle, not at all kindly, and Lee shrinks in on himself, staring down at his breakfast. 

“Shut up,” Gaara snaps, sending a ripple of gasps down the table. Lee looks up to find Gaara glaring down at the Hufflepuff who'd spoken, the deadliness of a Basilisk in his eyes. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, pushing back tears with great effort.

Gaara huffs, like an annoyed cat, turning his attention to his food. 

Tension hangs heavy over the Hufflepuff table, diminishing as the students at Lee's end begin to get up and make for their classes. Lee has an open period first thing that morning, so he doesn't need to rush, but Gaara only has time for thirty minutes of eating in silence before he's rising from his seat. 

“What class do you have now?” Lee asks.

“Charms.” 

“Oh, I love Charms,” Lee says, getting up from his seat. “Can I walk you to class?” 

Gaara nods, mute and flat, his expression still tense with agitation. Lee follows him out of the Great Hall, waving at Tenten and Neji, who he knows spent the entirety of breakfast watching him. He can be sure that the moment he's alone, they'll corner him. 

The walk to Charms is far too short for Lee's liking, and far too quiet. He wants to ask Gaara all manner of questions, or just chat with him the way he does with Tenten and Neji. Gaara doesn't make it easy to strike up conversation, however. He walks with his gaze straight ahead, his mouth pressed in a thin line, and his gaze like a ward against any who might try to approach, even Lee. It's astounding to see when Lee has witnessed the depths of Gaara's kindness.

“Thanks,” Gaara says simply, stopping in front of the door to the Charms classroom and turning abruptly to look at Lee. 

“Of course! Thank you for eating breakfast with me. I am sorry about my Housemates though.” 

“They should be nicer to you.” Gaara's gaze is steady on Lee's face, his expression stony. “Do they always pick on you?” 

“Sometimes, but I usually do not worry about it! It is all in good fun.”

“That didn't look like fun.” Gaara calls Lee's bluff sharply, his tone colored with annoyance. “Did you tell anyone? About what I told you?” 

Lee reels, momentarily confused by the sudden change in conversation. “What—oh! You mean the—absolutely no! I would never! You told me that in confidence, and I would never betray anyone's trust in me, especially a friend's!” 

Gaara looks as though Lee has just slapped him. Though very little has actually changed in the minutiae of his expression, Lee can see it in the green of his eyes. He looks a bit like an angry deer caught in wandlight, but it's cute enough that it makes Lee laugh. 

“Sorry, was I being presumptuous?” 

Gaara shakes his head, his expression softening to something like the smile from the other night. “No, it's—thank you.” 

He doesn't give Lee the chance to say anything else, ducking into the class without so much as a goodbye. 

________________________________

Over the next week, Gaara slips into Lee's life like a knife slips between ribs. It's quick and obvious and leaves its mark in various ways. 

First, his morning routine now includes Gaara, who is always late to breakfast. 

Second, on the mornings he doesn't have lessons first thing, he walks Gaara to class. 

Third, and most important of all, he cannot stop smiling, no matter how hard he tries. 

Gaara seems much the same to Lee—still taciturn and stoic, still a bit distant but with a hidden warmth beneath it all, still with that same soft smile that changes everything about his expression despite how small it is. 

“Merlin, Lee, are you ever going to get off that cloud?” Tenten flops onto the grass next to him, staring out at the lake.

“Why should I?” 

She snorts. “All you do is moon over Gaara these days.” 

Lee pushes himself up, glaring at her though there isn't any heat in his gaze. “As if you have never mooned over anyone! How is Neji doing, mhm?”

Tenten shoves at him, giggling. “Okay, fine. I'm just takin' the mickey, anyways. No need to get so twitchy.” 

Lee flops back onto the grass, staring up through the canopy of the trees. “Is it really that obvious?” 

“If you open up a dictionary to the word, they updated the definition so it's just a picture of you.” 

Lee nudges Tenten with his foot, laughing. “Does... does it seem like he might like me back?” 

Tenten's silence is answer enough for Lee. His smile drops, his gaze darting across the leaves, picking out the spots of light as he waits and hopes for Tenten to say something. 

“Oh, Lee,” she finally says, all soft sympathy. “I'm sorry, but I really don't think he does.” 

Lee's throat hurts, growing tight with emotion. He forces out a laugh. “That is okay,” he says shakily. “It is not as though I—I got my hopes up or anything!” 

He can feel Tenten watching him, her gaze as heavy as a beater's bat, and just as painful as a bludger. He doesn't want her sympathy, and he doesn't want her trying analyze him or tell him he's lying to himself. He knows he's lying to himself; he knows that he lies awake at night, daydreaming of a day where Gaara might lean across the Hufflepuff table and kiss him. 

And he knows it's stupid. 

“You know I love you, right?” Tenten asks, leaning close and pressing her side against his. 

“Yeah,” he croaks. “I know. I love you, too.” 

After that, she lets the silence of the afternoon envelop them, let's the cool fall breeze blowing across the lake carry away whatever words she might say.


End file.
